Potions and Drinks
by FandomCatt
Summary: Harry Potter could go for some strong alcohol... Or maybe Draco Malfoy... Or both. It's been a few years since the war ended, and one day Harry makes a somewhat disheveled appearance in Draco's potions store after not seeing him since the death eater trials. M/M slash.
1. Chapter 1

Hey there! This is my first Harry Potter fic. I've just finished school and I'm making plans for next year so I'm not sure how often this story will be uploaded. I really hope you enjoy it :)

Chapter 1

After the war, everything changed for Draco Malfoy. He became quiet, reserved and extremely wary of almost everything. He sold Malfoy Manor and bought a serene, elegant mansion called Brooke Manor. As the name suggested, there was a quiet, softly flowing river on the property, surrounded by trees and a great stretch of land. He had planned on turning the stretch into a quidditch pitch when he first looked at the plot, but now it seemed rather pointless, as he had no one else to play quidditch with.

Narcissa, his mother, visited him on occasion at his new home. When he first obtained it, she had helped him enormously with decorating the expansive interior and even recommended some landscape artists when they were both at a loss with the design of the exterior of the huge plot of land. She had reconciled her relationship with her sister, Andromeda and moved in with her to assist in looking after Teddy. Teddy Lupin was Nymphadora (Andromeda's daughter) and Remus's son, and she had ended up with him when they had both died in the Final Battle and he had no one else to go to, not that she minded though. Narcissa also helped Andromeda with the loss of her daughter and son-in-law.

Lucius, his father, had died in the Final Battle. It had taken him shorter than he had expected to get over his death. A part of him recognised what a bad influence his father had been on him. He had been brought up as a spoilt, stuck-up pureblood child. His father was also the main reason behind him receiving the Dark Mark, apart from the Dark Lord himself of course. He found himself feeling greatly relieved that Potter had offed the Dark Lord, because otherwise he would still be grovelling and trembling at the evil man's feet in fear and submission, obeying his every command. His Dark Mark had faded and was just visible. He hated it so much. It reminded him of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, his father, and what he had to do to survive that awful time.

Draco had pursued a mastery in Potions in honour of his godfather, Severus Snape, who had died of a fatal bite from Nagini, the Dark Lord's serpent familiar. He also felt a passion for the subject, and even since his time at Hogwarts, he found himself wanting to spend his life working in the field. The amount of possibilities in Potions were endless, and he hoped to even create his own potions, much like his godfather had done.

After completing his mastery, which had taken him four years, Draco had decided to open his own store called Perfect Potions, selling different types of potions and taking orders from hospitals in need of regular deliveries. He had found a small shop space just off Diagon Alley for sale, thankfully not anywhere near Knockturn Alley. He had bought it immediately after seeing it, as he liked the intimate but seemingly large feeling of the space. He had set up fairly quickly and spent some time brewing potions so that he would have a good stock when the store opened. His mother occasionally came to the shop to help him and he asked his old friend, Blaise, from Hogwarts to help him a few times a week so he could get on his feet.

He enjoyed her visits to his manor and his store immensely, but he often caught himself feeling rather lonely, him being the only one working at his store most of the time, and in Brooke Manor besides the two house elves that kept the property in working order. Their names were Poppy and Daisy. He treated them well, as he had long ago made a promise to himself that he would never treat a house elf as he witnessed his father do with their countless house elves growing up.

His mother continued to help him brew after his store was opened and he honestly appreciated any help he could get. Between restocking the shelves, brewing orders for St Mungo's and another smaller hospital, creating modified potions for customers both regularly and irregularly, and experimenting with his own potions, he felt like he barely had time for himself. He took most of the weekend off, brewing in advance for anyone in need on Friday, opening half day on Saturday, and closing the rest of the weekend.

It had taken him a while to get many customers in the shop and orders from regulars and hospitals, as most people were wary of him. They all knew him as Draco Malfoy, pureblood heir to the Malfoy line, a Death Eater. The people that showed up at first knew about what had happened at his trial. Potter had come barging in like the showman he was, spoke for both him and his mother, explaining how they had both saved his life on separate occasions, and left. They were both let off with a large fine to pay, which was bearable, as they were one of the richest families in Great Britain.

He had then built a name for himself, slowly earning trust and gaining more customers. In truth, he didn't really need to work, as he had a fortune behind his name, but he found that he enjoyed helping people while doing his favourite thing, which was brewing. Even though he was let off by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he still felt terrible about his actions and felt that serving the community was a good way to make up for what he had done.

Draco had seen Potter around a few times in Diagon Alley, at bars, and even in his own shop, as well as in the newspapers, where he always seemed to be. The papers were relentless in publishing every single fact that they could find out about the Golden Boy. He felt slightly bad for Potter because he knew how it felt when it was his own family being shamed in the Daily Prophet, not that they had gone through anything like the constant scrutiny of Potter's life since before and after the war ended. From what he got from the few newspapers that he did manage to read since Hogwarts, Potter had completed his Auror training over the standard three years alongside his best friend Ron Weasley and then started as a fulltime Auror. Two years later, (the year after he opened his store) Ginny, his fiancé at the time, broke things off with him for good.

A few days after this incident, Potter himself had walked into his very shop, glancing around nervously as people stared at him. He looked awful. There were bags under his eyes, his hair hung limp and dull on his head and he was wearing a hoodie and sweats (yes yes, they were muggle, but Draco knew pretty much everything there was to know about style). He looked like he was out of it. He came up to the counter and, without really realising who he was talking to, he began to mumble about needing peace and something for sleep. Draco, instantly realising what he was after, asked, "How many doses do you need? And how strong? Do you have any allergies?" These were the standard questions he generally asked all his customers. It ensured he made no mistakes with their orders.

Potter gazed up at him slowly. "As many as you can give me and as strong as I can get," he replied, fiddling with his hands in his pockets. "I think I have an allergy to life and happiness, but besides from that, none." Draco was slightly shocked to hear this coming out of the Saviour of the Wizarding Worlds' mouth, but he said nothing as he turned and grabbed what Potter required.

"I can give you a month's dose of calming drought but only a weeks' worth of dreamless sleep, as it's addictive," he said politely. He harboured no ill feelings towards the man standing directly in front of him now, and he was quite glad for it, or this situation could have turned awful.

"I don't really care about how addictive it is," Potter suddenly hissed. His eyes were wide and slightly fearful. "I really need it, please give me more than this."

"I'm sorry, but I'm legally not allowed to give you more than that at a time, and -"

Potter stopped him mid-sentence, hope flaring in his emerald eyes. "At a time? So, I could come back and get more from you any time?" Draco sighed quietly. He could tell that this would be a slightly difficult situation to control.

"well, yes, but it's not a great idea to –" he started fruitlessly.

He was interrupted almost instantly. "Oh, fantastic, thanks! See you soon then." He dumped a small purse of coins on the counter and grabbed his potions, before making for the door hastily. Draco frowned at his retreating form and began counting the coins in the purse. Each calming drought was two galleons because it was the strongest brew he could make, and each dreamless sleep potion was four galleons. It was quite expensive; this was to try and discourage people from buying too much of it. Potter's total had come to 96 galleons, and he had given him 104 galleons. So, what was he meant to do with the extra galleons?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was exactly a week later when Potter appeared again. He came into the shop cautiously and made a show of looking around before heading towards Draco at the counter. Draco sighed inwardly and mentally prepared himself to deal with him. Potter looked out of it once again. He deduced that this state was probably due to the calming potions he was taking as he seemed to be taking them rather often. "Hi there," Potter started as he reached the counter, still looking around. "I'm here to get seven doses of dreamless sleep." He looked up at the man behind the counter for the first time clearly, and physically jumped when he saw Malfoy standing there. "Woah," Potter breathed. "When did you get here?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I've been here for a year, Potter, and in case you didn't notice, this is my store." Potter stared at him, looking astonished, and let out a deep breath. For the first time, Draco smelt the strong scent of firewhiskey coming from him. "Been drinking? It's only 11 in the morning. Bit early, don't you think?" he asked, mildly curious.

Potter scoffed. "As if you care. Look, just give me the dreamless sleep and I'll be on my way." Draco did as he was asked, producing seven little vials of the stuff. Potter reached for some coins in a purse tied to his belt, before looking up at Draco. "How much are these?"

"Four galleons a vial. By the way, last time you overpaid me, so I can subtract that amount off your purchase if you'd like." Draco said, not really wanting to feel like he owed anything to Potter.

Potter shrugged and waved his hand dismissively. "I don't need it. You can keep it for yourself. Consider it a tip." He counted out the shiny gold galleons from the purse in his hand and handed over the right amount.

"Okay, well bye then," Potter said, looking awkward, before heading out the door. Draco stared down at the pile of coins on the counter in front of him. There was something going on with Potter. And he had a funny feeling that he was going to see the Golden Boy a lot more in the future.

Four days later, it was almost time for Draco to close his store for the day. There were a few last-minute customers in the store and he let them take their time as he neatened the potions and ingredients on the shelves. He found it a relaxing time, and he liked reflecting on his day as he tidied. It was a routine for him, and so he found himself rather surprised when someone burst into his store like they were being chased by a herd of hippogriffs.

Draco looked up, startled. It was Potter. His chest was heaving, and his eyes were wide and panicked. "Sorry Malfoy," he said, taking deep breaths. "There was just a lot of people outside and they were all crowding me and I couldn't..." he trailed off.

Draco approached Potter and led him by the arm to the stairs leading down to the storeroom, quickly casting an anti-theft charm on the stores' front door. The storeroom was charmed to be bigger than it actually was. The half furthest from the door contained cupboards with potions ingredients and there was a large oak table, on which was a few cauldrons. In the corner of the room closest to the door was a bookcase filled with both new and old looking books and two leather couches. Draco led Potter to the couch and sat him down. He went over to a small table near the door which had a kettle and different drink ingredients. He looked back at Potter, who was shaking, and decided that he could use some sugar. He quickly made him a hot cup of cocoa and snuck a few drops of calming draught into the warm drink.

Draco gave Potter the drink and sat beside him for a moment. Potter nodded his thanks and sipped quietly on the cocoa. "Just sit here for a bit while I finish up upstairs. I'll be back in a few minutes." Potter, already looking a bit calmer, gave him a quick smile to show that he had heard.

Draco ran up the stairs and assisted the customers waiting patiently near the counter for him with their purchases in hand. When he had finally flipped the 'open' sign to display 'closed', he sorted and tidied the rest of the shelves that he hadn't managed to do earlier. He also made a list of potions that were running low, before heading down the stairs once again. Potter was curled up on the couch that Draco had left him on. He had finished his cocoa and his eyes were closed. His breathing was steady and normal. "Hey Potter," he said quietly, not wanting to startle him.

Potter opened his eyes slowly and looked at him. "Thanks for helping me," he said quietly. "I'm sorry you had to deal with me when I was like that." He looked down, as if ashamed.

"It wasn't a big deal," Draco answered. "Does it happen to you often? Is that why you purchased so many calming droughts from me?"

Potter nodded, but didn't say anything else about it, not willing to share too much. "Do you mind if I stay here for a little longer? I don't really want to face Diagon Alley again when it's full of people searching for a glance at me."

"Sure, I was just going to do some brewing. You can stay for as long as you like, as long as it's not too late. If you would like some coffee or tea, feel free to make some. There are books on the shelf next to you. Mind you, most of them are about potions but you might find something to interest you."

Potter looked incredibly relieved. "I won't stay too long. Thank you so much. I owe you."

Draco shook his head. "No, you don't. You tipped me the other day when not many do. See this as repayment." There were a few moments of silence where Potter considered this, and nodded slightly, agreeing. Draco turned to the cupboards and gathered ingredients, following the list he had made of what potions the store needed.

As he worked, Draco could feel Potter's eyes on him. He moved with a practiced grace that he had once admired his godfather for. He went into a trance when he brewed. "What are those for?" Potter asked curiously. He had moved to sit on a wooden stool near Draco to get a better view of what the man was doing.

"These are some potions that I was running out of upstairs. I don't keep many spares down here because most potions are better when they're as fresh as possible." Draco explained.

After that, there was silence for a while. He prepared ingredients and brewed while Potter sat and watched. Eventually Potter got up. "I think I'll go now. Thank you once again for helping me. I'll let myself out."

"I would have done it for anyone," Draco replied just before he walked out. Potter looked back and threw him a grin before climbing the stairs.


End file.
